


Heartlines

by mollykaths



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Blowjobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Public Sex, Reunion Sex, Riding, Tumblr Prompt, gapyerion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:38:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5750443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollykaths/pseuds/mollykaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of tumblr prompts for gayperion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prompt: Vaughn and Rhys having sleepy morning makeouts and lazy sex after staying at the office later.

-

 

When Vaughn wakes up, it’s to respond to the chill prickling his bare arms. There are no blankets covering him but in their place, a lanky, warm and solid body presses into his backside. They had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. Thank goodness it was Saturday morning, because Rhys and Vaughn didn’t leave the office until midnight—a cute choice to make when you’re nineteen year olds, in college, and pulling an all-nighter but not so much when you’re twenty seven and accustomed to waking up at the crack of dawn for work.

 

A few more recollections push their way past Vaughn’s sluggish haze: he’s lying in his own bed, still fully clothed, pretty sure he remembered to lock the door to his office before he left the facility, and Rhy’s erection is poking his spine. Not at all an unwelcome discovery. Yes, they ate pizza last night so that would explain why Vaughn couldn’t stand the taste in his mouth. His breathe was most likely nasty and at some point during the evening, while Rhys was shoveling a pizza slice in his mouth with one hand and typing at his computer with the other, he managed to get grease on one of his good shirts (Rhys was not amused. Vaughn was thrilled).

 

“Hey man,” Vaughn mumbles, turning over and meeting his friend’s droopy gaze.

 

Rhys smiles and exhaustion really shouldn’t be a good look on him but then again, Rhys always looks good and something about his hooded lids and tousled hair is filling the pit of Vaughn’s stomach with subsequent, fluttering warmth.

 

“Hey buddy,” Rhys greets, leaning closer to give him a delicate kiss.

 

Lips brush together and then there’s a pause as Rhys pulls away to lap his tongue against Vaughn’s lower lip before nibbling the soft flesh, coyly. Vaughn laughs low and soft, “Dude, really? How do you even have the energy for this?”

 

But he doesn’t protest when Rhys tugs the petite body to his side, urging for Vaughn to climb atop him and straddle his thighs. Opening his mouth, Vaughn searches for another reason to mock Rhys for the erection he’s donning so shamelessly because really, this is just ridiculous. For someone who complains about being overworked so frequently, Rhys is terrible at prioritizing.  
Vaughn can’t think of anything clever to say because Rhys’s long limbs are sprawled beneath him, his hair un-styled, sticking out at all ends, lips red, raw and wet, high cheekbones flushed with a pretty scarlet—so fuck it, honestly, morning sex it is.

 

When he’s finally pushing deep, _deep_ inside Rhys, after preparing him at an unhurried pace, Vaughn stops caring about the mess they made; the clothes they discarded, scattered across his floor. Somehow, Vaughn had it in him to fling his slacks far enough to land just outside the bathroom door.

 

Rhys is aware of his height when he’s reclined like this, on his back, legs awkwardly dangling over Vaughn’s shoulders. The steady, leisurely drag against his prostate—that intensifies as Vaughn surges forward—seems to lessen any concerns Rhys has because he’s wrapping those long legs around Vaughn’s waist, whimpering. Allowing the weight of an attractive, smaller build to commandeer their lovemaking is something that _really_ gets the two off because Vaughn knows Rhys could easily flip them over and take charge but he doesn’t. Rhys has probably realized how pliant and willing he must look because he tightens around Vaughn’s movements. Vaughn is a little startled to hear himself growl but the writhing, gasping, arching mess below him heard it too, and well, that’s what finally did him in. Rhy snorts in surprise and disbelief. Vaughn can’t blame him because he often tries to repress such visceral sounds, out of shyness.

 

As Rhys laughs gently into another untimed and fervent kiss, Vaughn is so glad that nothing else matters right now.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompt: rhys goes on a fun ride on vaughns dick and everyone has a good time

 

-

 

 

“You sure you don’t, I don’t know, want to sit down and talk about everything?” Vaughn asks, as Rhys grabs his hand, sprinting across the wreckage.

 

 

“We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” Rhys exhales, sharply. After traipsing through the control room, Rhys does a double take and looks to Vaughn for assistance.

 

 

“Um,” Vaughn mutters, “Bedrooms are to the left, assuming that’s what you have in mind.”

 

 

Very little time passes between their trek from the control room to the sleeping quarters. The air is sucked dry from Vaughn’s lungs as Rhys slams the door to Vaughn’s makeshift bedroom shut and then proceeds to shove him against the wall.

 

“Vaughn…” Rhys falters, staring roughly into the (notably pretty) green eyes of his friend. He takes both hands and cups Vaughn’s face, gently. Expression not quite readable, Rhys takes a moment to stroke his thumbs across Vaughn’s cheekbones, his eyes raw and a little red.  The last thing he wants to do is cry right now but god, its so hard not to when Vaughn is alive, pressing into him with recognizable warmth.

 

 

“Hey,” Vaughn speaks, softly. His own hands reach to caress Rhys’s trembling fingers.

 

 

It’s unclear who lunges forward so brutally into the kiss first—Rhys is pretty sure it’s himself but Vaughn meets his lips more quickly than he would’ve thought. Their embrace is somehow both tender and zealous. Knees already weak from the rushing adrenaline, happiness, sorrow and relief—god so many sensations all at once—that have transpired within the past year, Rhys almost crumples forward into Vaughn as he pushes his tongue past eager and pliant lips. When Vaughn tries to articulate his thoughts on the very sudden yet long overdue intimacy, it’s between wet, hot kisses.

 

“Look, I know—mmf—a lot has happened but shouldn’t you be happy? We killed the monster, opened the vault…”

 

 

His voice trails off when he feels the wetness from Rhys’s eyes smeared across his cheek. Continuing, Vaughn says, “Rhys. Talk to me, bud?”

 

 

Rhys nods and tries to swallow the tightness lodged in his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a smile that carries no mirth. “I thought I lost you,” he explains, voice low and taut. “Then we almost lost Sasha and I—I’m just so _glad_. You’re here. You’re _here_ , Vaughn.”

 

 

“I’m here,” Vaughn repeats. This time, its his turn to use his newfound strength to edge Rhys away from the wall, slowly, until the back of his legs hit the downy surface of Vaughn’s bed.

 

 

With a lumbering tug, Rhys pulls him forward, urging for Vaughn to nearly crush him with his weight.  The small, almost inaudible gasp that Rhys makes when Vaughn hoists the taller man up to lay fully and properly sprawled on his back does not go unheard.

 

 

“I forgot,” Rhys laughs, nervously, “You have, like, super strength now. Um, and the beard makes you look _really_ handsome, by the way.”

 

 

“Thanks,” Vaughn replies, leaning in to close the gap of space between them. “I’ve been getting that a lot, lately.”

 

 

Unadulterated cheer lights up Rhys’s expression and damn, if that isn’t a look suited for his already stupidly pretty face.  Vaughn has been holding back for now, just in case, but this was just too much, he decides, kissing Rhys harder, their noses bumping clumsily.

 

Just briefly, its like they’re in college again, hurriedly discovering each other’s bodies for the first time, unable to hold still as they take turns rolling on top of each other, sloppily, laughing with every press of lips. Rhys pulls at the tie holding Vaughn’s hair in place, none too gently, leaving his hair to gather at his shoulders. As Vaughn feels heat rise to his cheeks, Rhys tosses the hair tie aside, without even a glance. Not much time  is spent on foreplay because they’re both already ridiculously hard. Vaughn was convinced that this tryst was going to be a frenzied one but boy, had  he been wrong. The way Rhys takes his time, tongue tracing the powerful muscles along Vaughn’s abdomen, indicates a loving kind of dedication. What feels almost like centuries pass and finally, finally, _finally_ , Rhys’s breathe ghosts over his erection while one free hand yanks his underwear away.

 

“Holy shit,” is all Vaughn can choke out as Rhys swallows his cock as far as he can, teasing him with a sucking motion that’s smooth, slow, and shallow.

 

Vaughn’s eyes roll into the back of his head, breathes coming out in quick, uneven pants, and he actually whines when Rhys tears away to whisper against the shell of his ear, “I want you to fuck me.”

 

 

“Oh,” Vaughn says, startled. “Uh, are you sure?”

 

 

Rhys nods, admits, “I think I might die if you don’t,” and Vaughn can detect the traces of humor in his tone.

 

 

“Well,” Vaughn replies, so artfully that Rhys visibly shudders under his gaze, “Can’t have that happening, can we?”

 

Vaughn undresses him with the kind of tenderness that Rhys has been aching for and even with all his concentration; it’s still not enough. Their lovemaking has never been quite so thorough, so calm, even when Vaughn chooses to be cruel, teasing places on Rhys’s body that makes him jerk his hips, impatiently. The torment that Rhys endures at the expense of Vaughn’s careful lips and tongue makes him feel so _empty_ yet somehow, so cherished. Vaughn drags his teeth along his nipple, toys with the tip of his cock, whispers affections into the nape of Rhys’s neck like they have all the time in the world; no moonshots, no bandits, not vault monsters, no such impending doom to take away the space they share in the dingy, poorly lit room that Vaughn calls home.

 

“Just a heads up,” Rhys says, sheepishly, as Vaughn presses one slicked finger into him. “I don’t think I’m going to last very long. Sorry, bro.”

 

Rhys grins as he finishes those last few words. Vaughn works a second finger inside him, then a third, pulling them all out simultaneously, only to shove them back in, and Rhys’s frustrated groan cracks into a loud whimper.

 

 

“Yeah,” Vaughn says, smugly, “Doesn’t seem like it. I forgot how sensitive you are.”

 

“No you didn’t,” Rhys snaps, accusingly, though he remains boneless and passive as Vaughn works him open.

 

 

By the time Rhys is ready, he trembles as he straddles Vaughn’s thighs. From this position, Rhys glances down, observing the strong jut of Vaughn’s length as it protrudes away from his hips. He bites his lip and carefully sinks down onto thickness that’s never failed to make him see stars.

 

 

“ _Easy._ There you go,” Vaughn whispers, guiding Rhys as he adjusts to the fullness. Whether or not those words are meant to soothe Rhys or himself, Rhys isn’t certain. However, the dull ache of the stretch becomes less and less noticeable as he begins to move, the pain barely registering when all Rhys can focus on is how round Vaughn’s eyes grow as he takes in as much of the generous girth as he is able.

 

The sculpted musculature along Vaughn’s belly tenses, nearly seize up as Rhys begins to move. It seems like such a minuscule detail—Vaughn breathing deeply as he grows accustomed to the pleasure, the tightness and warmth surrounding his cock—but it’s certainly an encouraging one. Rhys shifts up, then down, descending further and this time, it hits his prostate with more pressure than any fingers could provide.

 

 

Simultaneously, as Rhys cries out, baring the column of his pale throat, eyes screwing shut, Vaughn hisses, “ _Fuck_ , Rhys,” bends his knees, impulsively, while he digs his heels into the mattress.

 

They fuck like that, with Rhys setting the pace and Vaughn bucking into each thrust, spearing himself deeper and deeper into tight heat every time. Shakily, Rhys bends down to kiss Vaughn and when that takes too much out of him, he opts to suck bright, scarlet hickeys onto his chest.

 

He’s close now, using so much of his strength to ride Vaughn’s cock. There’s a burn in his thighs as Rhys’s movements become more erratic and sure, he’ll feel sore in the morning but strangely enough, the though of everyone noticing the limp in his stride only makes him harder.

 

Vaughn wraps a hand around his erection, pumping him, mumbling praises into Rhy’s ear.

 

 

“You’re doing so good, Rhys. So good for me.”

 

 

Once more, Vaughn babbles on, telling Rhys how perfect he feels, how gorgeous he looks and that, coupled with the hand on his dick, the intense strain against his prostate, tears a thunderous wail from his throat.

 

Sincerely hoping that no one heard him (or maybe sort of hoping they did, Rhys isn’t sure, but weirder things have gotten him off) Rhys comes, feeling like he’s been gutted. Vaughn doesn’t last much long after that, wrapping his arms around Rhys’s backside.

 

 

“Wow,” Vaughn says after a prolonged silence.

 

 

“Yeah,” Rhys agrees. “Wow.”

 

 

“I can’t believe we ever stopped doing that.”

 

“We’re idiots,” Rhys sighs, smiling into the soft space where Vaughn’s neck meets his shoulder. “What else is new.”

 

Unfortunately for Vaughn, Rhys has a habit of lying on top of him like this. Despite how thin he is, Rhys knows his mass isn’t any less suffocating but Vaughn doesn’t protest. So Rhys thinks of it as a reminder that he’ll stay. He tells Vaughn how he loves him and for a while, he puts his mind at ease and doesn’t burden himself with thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all really like Rhys bottoming, don't you. Not that I'm not very happy to oblige.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 **Prompt** : okay m bot sure if you still want any of these but here we go. Vaughn being really into desk and public sex and Rhys just being 100% down for it like seriously Vasquez walking into Vaughn's office to find him getting a blow job or full on fucking rhys okay I'm going back to the shame cube bye

 

-

 

It started off as a joke, at first.  The kind of joke that you make with your best friend plus boyfriend one weekend night while tossing back overpriced cocktails. _Ha-ha, wouldn’t it be so funny if someone banged in the office?_ Wouldn’t it be funny if _we_ had sex in the office? That’d be so awkward and imagine if someone walked in on us. We don’t have to worry about that, though, right? We’re not _that_ wild.

 

Sure, they had taken turns screwing each other’s brains out but not anywhere indiscreet.  Granted, it had been a while since Rhys and Vaughn fooled around. This Monday morning, however,  was especially migraine inducing.  Vaughn sat through a meeting that went past lunch, all the while listening to a lecture about how he was color coding his spreadsheets with hues that were too “ _pastel_ ” instead of primary. Fuck, what was this, art school? Vaughn was close to having a mental breakdown of sorts and he was either going to hurl his computer into space (what was the easiest way of breaking these windows?) or just sit in a corner of the room and stare at the ceiling, numbingly. Then Rhys burst into his office, carrying a bag with chips and sandwiches from their favorite deli, awfully chipper as he blabbered about the new suit he was going to get fitted.

 

“Whoa, you okay?” Rhys asks, setting their lunch on Vaughn’s desk. Brows furrowed, Rhys leans in so their gazes align and certainly, the physical effects of Vaughn’s terrible day are apparent.

 

“I am now,” Vaughn rushes, pulling Rhys into him, kissing him until he can’t breathe.

 

“I should buy you lunch more often,” Rhys says between the gaps of time where his mouth isn’t preoccupied.

 

Usually, Vaughn would roll his eyes at Rhy’s attempt to be coy but when they part, Rhys is smiling. Vocalizing any complaints, no matter how warranted, is difficult when Rhys is smiling at him, laughing as Vaughn backs him up against the desk. It’s infuriating because Rhys _knows_ that he looks good; knows he wouldn’t get away with so much otherwise.

 

“Shitty morning,” Vaughn sighs.

 

Rhys nods, sympathetically, says, “I’m sorry,” and his lips are moving slowly, like he wants to say more. Rhys is probably going to ask Vaughn what happened but he doesn’t give him the opportunity. The only noise Rhys makes is a startled “Oh—“ when Vaughn slips a knee between Rhy’s  legs.

Teeth graze Rhy’s neck, fingers fumbling to loosen the taller man’s dress shirt and that’s when Vaughn feels the first signs of his arousal poke his sides.

 

“I—shouldn’t, um,” Rhys mumbles, eyes round with awe as he watches Vaughn drop to his knees.

 

Pausing his ministrations, Vaughn’s eases his grip on Rhy’s hips—narrow, bony hips that fit nicely in hands, look good when he’s digging those crescent-shaped imprints from his fingernails into soft skin. Actually, his hips look even better when Vaughn is holding them down, pressing them into the mattress while he bottoms out, filling himself as much as he can into Rhys, but that’s neither here nor there.

 

“Yeah,” Vaughn says, trying not to think about how close he is to either ripping Rhy’s shirt off or at least shoving it up as far as he can so there’s room to suck purple and red marks into Rhy’s hipbones. “Is this okay?”

 

“Oh, its okay,” Rhys exhales, ducking his head to offer Vaughn a toothy grin. “It’s more than okay, its amazing, actually, I just—“ here, he bites his lips, uncertain, “shouldn’t I be the one doing this to _you_?”

 

“Seriously, Rhys,” Vaughn snorts. “Just let me give my boyfriend a blowjob. “

 

Sometime after Vaughn is done teasing him, palming him through his slacks, he unzips and yanks down any remaining attire. It’s really beautiful and the sight is spellbinding: all the muscles in Rhy’s belly go taut when Vaughn sucks his cock like he’s furious about it, the pace cruel and unrelenting. A free hand reaches to grope at Rhy’s navel. Soft and thin: Rhys is not at all powerfully built and he’s lamented this plenty of times. None of that matters to Vaughn because he’s smooth, warm, solid, and writhing with every motion. Obedient, too, Vaughn thinks, as he takes Rhys into the back of his throat and his friend whimpers but doesn’t buck his hips into the heat that’s causing him to tremble.

 

Vaughn has to stop, briefly, to scold Rhys for being too loud.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” Rhys whispers, combing Vaughn’s hair with his fingers, so close and so not _used_ to receiving the most angriest, aggressive blowjob he’s ever had in his entire life.

 

They’ve done this enough times to know when either one is close. Rhys signals his proximity with harsh and uneven pants, knees going weak from the onslaught of pleasure. He’s given up creating distinguishable sentences now, just mumbling, “Oh god that’s— _wow_ ,” or “Close, I—can’t— _fuck_ ,” whenever he isn’t biting on his knuckles to keep himself  from crying out.

 

Honestly, Vaughn would have bent him over the desk and fucked him by now if he had a bottle of lube in his drawers.  Rhy’s back curls into a pretty arch and he’s pulsing against Vaughn’s tongue. Some chatter fills the empty space outside the door and shitshitshit lunch break is over and people are returning to work. If Rhys comes before then, everything will be fine. Wait, did they lock the door? Why hadn’t they locked the door? Shit, right, Vaughn threw himself on Rhys before either of them had the chance to use their brains—is that Vasquez talking?

 

Fuck.

 

 It’s too late now and Vaughn knows he should stop but he wants Rhys to fill his mouth with his release so so so badly–

 

“—And tell that squirrely little nerd that I don’t care. You know what? I’ll tell him myself.”

 

Rhys moans into the fist he’s stuffed in his mouth, desperately grasping at the edge of the desk for support, too lost in temporary bliss to hear the doorknob turn.

 

“Primary my ass, that’s not the aesthetic we’re going f—“

 

Rhys’s eyes meet Hugo Vasquez’s as he comes.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, yeah that was corny but whatever man, I just want these two to be happy.


End file.
